Homeless
by Enarre
Summary: Billy is beginning to think that he's being haunted.  Drabble series... Billy/Penny sentiments.
1. Orphans

**Title: **Homeless**  
Rating:** PG – Some language, eventual violence**  
Genre: **Hurt/Comfort / Drama / Family / Angst (in the beginning)**  
Summary: ** Connected drabble series.. From the corners of his mind, Billy thinks he sees red hair following him. (Billy/Penny sentiments.)

**Author's Note:** Starts off dark, but gets lighter after a certain point. Also, each chapter's length varies, as this is an on-going, one-plot and continuous drabble series. I've written a few chapters already, and really, I'm not sure where it will be going after chapter 10. Bit of a filler first chapter.

* * *

**Orphans**

"I take care of what's mine," had been his choice of words, laced with frigid conviction and a calm challenge.

_Her life was mine to take._

Apparently, it had been the right answer, and the ELE had left him to his devices, which was not an uncommon occurrence anymore. At first they had ordered him to rob banks, wreak havoc, and the usual like, but eventually they came to realize that he was their residential _mad_ scientist. Mad he was, and they gradually respected him for it, often now only conferring with him for his undoubtedly genius plans and scientific guiding.

So when Dr. Horrible had anonymously presided over Penny's funeral, Bad Horse himself had allowed his show of possession, if only because it was viewed as taking care of loose ends. Let it never be said that Dr. Horrible didn't see through his plans to the very end.

"I take care of what's mine," Billy whimpered now, a pale comparison to his past villainous boast. His naked hand hovered in the air, aching to tough the etched characters of her name against the nondescript headstone, but unable to do so. There was a gap there, a distance far greater than the air between him and the grave, a seemingly bottomless pit that now could never be bridged.

Billy couldn't touch her – especially now – his guilt was too great, the sacrilege of it would surely break him at long last.

Thoughts of her, of her nearly empty funeral, cut him in half. One half the friend who wanted to be more, the other a villain whose cruel smirk could make anyone quake in fear. Bad Horse had his death whinny, but now others spoke of Horrible's jaded yet pitiless smile as being just as traumatizing.

No one ever spoke of his laugh, however, for he had no worthy challenge with which to use it.

No one would ever think that that image of the rising villain hid the sad laundry buddy who had once again been orphaned.

Orphaned…

Billy had already known that Penny had been orphaned; it was one of the things that was easily recognized as if it had been his own reflection. It was the same as a selfish person being able to tell when someone else was being selfish, a depressed person being able to see through a fake smile—Billy had been able to tell that Penny was all alone in this world.

But at her funeral, it hit him hard. Nearly empty and without a family, and only a few other equally orphaned people – the homeless she so cared for – attended.

Uneasily she had told him once that she had been orphaned and so she lived alone – though she never told him where, smart girl (even though he had followed her and revered the simple apartment like a chapel) – and that it spurred her to help those like her, those without someone to turn to and a place to call home.

Billy had wrapped his whole world around her, an orphan finally finding such a home, and he wanted to give Penny the world she had so dreamed of.

But now Penny was dead, buried six feet under his ambition.

"Penny," he struggled to breathe out, "I'm... I'm _so_ sorry."

His hand fell away from its suspension between the gap between worlds, and he bowed his head in respect, in shame, while blinking away his sadness.

Tomorrow, Dr. Horrible was to take siege of her abandoned homeless shelter and resurrect the hope that no one knew died with her. Tomorrow he would strike fear in just the right direction, and the sheep would run from the wolf, unaware of the scared black lamb that hid behind the fangs.

He took a small, uneasy breath.

Then something flinted by in the corner of his eye.

Billy snapped his head towards its direction, mind ready to take the leap between personalities, and his hand quickly lowered to the stun ray he carried within his hoodie at all times. But at the sight of red hair and terrified blue eyes, he was frozen.

Frozen in fear, in regret, in indignant shock, and his lips struggled to grab hold of suddenly elusive and meaningless words, before finally, he managed to gasp out:

"You?—Y-you're dead!"

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Ghosts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters and I make not profit from these FAN-fictions. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the relative filler and boring chapter last time.

* * *

**Ghosts**

She was there again, but she wasn't herself.

Billy stared unseeingly at his whiteboard that was filled top-to-bottom with pointless equations and ideas for modifications. Instead, his thoughts flicked back to his memories, namely a couple of weeks ago.

The little girl had been there at the homeless shelter too, looking up at him as he took hold of it and forced the proprietor to sign its deeds over to him.

The man who owned it had claimed to be the executor of the Caring Hands Group, but as Billy had looked around through goggle-clad eyes, he had seen nothing but an unused building that saw its end when "Captain Hammer couldn't protect it anymore."

But then there she was again, slipping through the door and gasping softly at the sight of the ray gun against the frightened owner's temple. Her red hair and soft expression had been so reminiscent, so painfully merciless, that he had again been frozen by the image of this child-Penny. Funny, he always thought that being haunted meant seeing wisps of an image, seeing something and turning around to find that it wasn't actually there. Plus, he never thought that a ghost could or would change its age.

But this Penny looked more like the orphan he had connected with than the struggling but fighting woman he had loved. No, this was a _helpless_ Penny, the orphan Penny, the Penny who had stared at him with dying eyes.

When the owner had questioned him, Dr. Horrible took charge once again, glaring him down and forcing him to sign, but by the time Billy looked back, the ghost of Penny was gone.

Just like in the cemetery.

Just like the days before, he thought as the time passed.

At every heist, every shortcut, he would hear her small footsteps, her unspoken astonishment and horror, and every time he turned around, the ghost of her refused to vanish. Instead, she stared up at him silently, disbelief in her eyes as her head shook in denial before fleeing the instant he so much as blinked.

And after weeks of chasing shadows then ignoring them, Billy angrily erased all the formulas and equations from his sullied whiteboard and realized, plain and simple, that he had become insane.

This Penny, lost and orphaned ghost, was going to be the end of him.

* * *

**TBC**


	3. Victories

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note:** There is no fixed release schedule for this series, I'm sorry. Updates may be sporadic, for, alas!, that is the way of inspiration.

* * *

**Victories**

'I could easily defeat him,' he reminded himself. 'Let him have this victory,' he mentally repeated, 'it will be me who has the last laugh.'

Johnny Snow kicked him in the stomach again.

Dr. Horrible grunted beneath the pain, trying to get up from his hands and knees, but that laugh that Snow emitted almost made him want to curl into a ball and die in shame. He had to throw this fight, he chanted even though it did nothing to relieve the pain, had to had to had to.

"How does it feel, _Dr. Horrible_?" the wannabe hero proclaimed to anyone around who was listening, which, unfortunately, was a lot. It just made it hurt worse.

"I, Johnny Snow, have finally defeated you, my arch nemesis!" he boasted to the world, his voice phony to Billy's ears alone.

Billy spit out a mouthful of blood, and his thoughts came to a halt. It was now or never. Carefully, so as not to appear too obvious, he collapsed on the ground, making sure the rolled-up papers fell out from his coat to tumble to the hero's feet.

"Ah, what's this?" Snow kept projecting his voice for the gathering crowd by the park.

Slowly, Billy started to remember the name of the park.

"A deed? This is… to Hammer's homeless shelter!"

Dewley Park. Children were here, how could he have forgotten?

"Then this means…" Snow slowly fell seamlessly into Billy's puzzle, a corner piece that would soon led to the completion of a much greater picture, "This means I can…"

His would-be foe's voice grew gradually smaller as visions of grandeur filled his head, promising possibilities that even Captain Hammer had been unable to fulfill.

"I could be his successor…"

Children, how the hell could he have forgotten, Billy lamented. He tried not to groan as he slowly got up, uncontested by junior hero and crowd alike, all of them far too interested in the future to remember the present.

Save for one.

When he finally lifted himself, his gaze saw her immediately. She looked small and untouchable against the crowd who cared for nothing more than a victor—villain or hero.

He couldn't even utter her name, shame and pride both silenced him. Part of him wanted her to smile at him, to tell him he was doing the right thing, but the other part of him knew that it would never be enough. Never.

His throat constricted against itself, clogging any words he might have mustered, and his blue eyes began to burn. With nothing further he could do, he turned his back on the child-Penny, unable to save grace, unable to even ask for forgiveness.

He limped away, his bruises and ice-burns suddenly painless against the way his heart refused to let him breathe.

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Smiles

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note:** Shortest chapter by far, but actually, my favorite XD Also, I have a kinda-plot going on, but this fic is mostly character-based and it's just going everywhere. Expect the homeless shelter to reappear sometime later though!

* * *

**Smiles**

"Doc?"

Billy hesitated before turning back around to face Moist. Despite the henchman's comical appearance with the huge gloves that Billy had chemically engineered for him to help his moisture problems, Moist's concern cut through any humor.

Not that Billy felt very funny at the moment.

"Doc, you okay?"

_No,_ he wanted to scream. _She keeps coming,_ his sanity wept, _she's killing me!_

But instead, he shook his head and flashed his old friend the infamous Horrible smirk, "Yeah, never been better."

Billy didn't know if he was lying.

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Sloppy Seconds

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

* * *

**Sloppy Seconds**

Fury Leika pulled him aside one day, but their conversation began with only silence. Dr. Horrible had nothing to say, never did, and Fury had never cared enough about anyone to say anything either. After a long moment passed between them, she swallowed what Billy could only guess to be pride.

"Are you alright?"

"Never better," he smoothly replied, looking as dead as he felt.

She smiled, a dangerous smile that he only barely recognized to mean scorn, "Then I'd hate to be you."

She seemed satisfied with herself and pivoted around before strutting away, a slight bounce in her step.

But Billy knew better. Fury fed off of other people's problems, if only because it distracted her from her own, and right now, she was just content to think that Bad Horse's new right-hand was as broken as the rest.

"Fury," he called out then, his voice dark and imposing, and he let a small smile fall on his lips when she paused down the ELE's hall. He knew that he probably didn't know the whole truth to her story, that her hatred for mankind – literally, man – probably stemmed from more than being stranded at the alter. Like himself, there was probably more to her story than what the papers said, but in that moment, when she slowly turned to look at him, he couldn't bring himself to care, "I won't let Bad Horse down."

Her eyes narrowed at his subtle admission that he knew he was the favored one, and spit out, "Just try not to fuck up another heist."

Her wrathful stare melted away all the aggression within him, those eyes that were condemning him, judging him—and rightfully so. For her, his sin was being a man, since, to her, all men would betray her fellow sisterkind, and in those eyes, he found his sins laid bare. Woman-scorned eyes that reminded him of dying yet hopeful eyes, of a frightened child's stare…

In Fury, he saw what he always imagined Penny to look like once she realized his betrayal.

Even as Billy writhed in his own guilt, Dr. Horrible stood tall and proud, easily staring back at Fury with a stare just as judging, sizing her up as well. After all, Dr. Horrible did not falter.

She smiled at that truth, jaded and yet approving. Still, she pivoted away from him, dismissing him as if he was nothing more than a bug beneath her wedding shoes.

"Try not to let children distract you next time, _supervillain_."

Against everything, against the hard-fought initiation and respect that was beginning to bloom even in Fury, Billy gasped out from Dr. Horrible's façade, "You saw her?"

* * *

**TBC**


	6. Sloppy Seconds ver 2 point 0

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

* * *

**Sloppy Seconds ver. 2.0**

"You saw her?" he had asked.

It was a question that was burning him up inside, boiling his skin with scorching blood, but Fury had left down the hall and never even heard his question.

In retrospect, he was glad that she had left, that she was gone before she heard his slip.

Yes, he thought as he later found himself trapped once again in Penny's gaze of innocent blue, yes, he was glad she was gone…

Not here, never has been, but gone…

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Temptations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**AN:** I know this story isn't a lot of people's cup of tea, and I'm sorry if I disappoint those who happen to like this flavor of tea, but soon this story is gonna make a 180. Like, angst to almost-humor 180 =P Sorry if that disappoints, but if it piques your interest, awesome! Either way, I'm quite shameless ;P Also, I'm not quite sure why I combined these two drabbles, but I like it this way, so this way it is staying.

* * *

**Temptations**

It wasn't calling him, nor did it stand out like a sign from God. It was just there, and it was its mere existence that appealed to him so. If he could just take it into his hands, the power would shift and suddenly, nothing would stop him. He'd be invincible, even from Penny, and with it, he could at last know redemption. Yes, just that possibility existing was driving him to the edge.

"Hey, Doc, got your mail!" Moist's voice called out from beyond the lab, snapping his visions of grandeur back to size.

Back to reality.

_'…Not today,'_ Billy reluctantly decided. He could continue to suffer for a little while longer; he could survive her silent torture a little more.

With a soft, "I'm coming," Billy slowly turned around and left the room to find Moist.

Billy walked away from the Death Ray as uncertain as when he had stared at it.

.

.

.

.

.

"Um, Doc?"

Billy looked up from shifting through the mail again for the third time, still not sure of what any of them had said. Moist was staring at him, nervous and yet intent, and at the sight of his blue eyes, Billy could see some weight lift off of the other man's shoulders. While it didn't take a genius with various PhDs to guess why Moist was relieved to see at least a part of his friend coherent, Billy couldn't help but wonder what it was that Moist saw. A broken man, a helpless friend, a star-crossed lover, a merciless - or merciful - villain?

"Have you told the ELE what you're planning?"

The beginnings of his Horrible smirk were tugging at his lips, but the scientist quickly suppressed the urge. Why use it on the one person he had left?

"They don't need to know something so petty."

"I don't know, I mean, some might say that helping the homeless isn't _exactly_ Evil-League-of-Evil material," Moist fidgeted, but the blonde man was beginning to note that the henchman was fidgeting—a lot. More than a homeless shelter called for.

"What are you getting at?" the words escaped from him before he even so much as thought them. Moist jumped at the almost-accusing tone.

"Well, according to the papers," at this he pointed to the newspaper that was mixed in with the mail that Billy still hadn't seen, "Johnny Snow... _may_ happen to be trying to pass off the homeless shelter back to the Caring Hands group," the henchman began, looking in every direction that didn't have a slightly enraged scientist filling its space.

"That man was an idiot. Apparently Snow's no different," Billy muttered beneath his breath, mind retracing his steps. Snow was supposed to be a new beacon with which to attract the sheep, a new hero to protect the homeless - just like Penny would have wanted. Snow was so simple-minded too, he would have been easy to manipulate, but if he was trying to sign the shelter back into the hands that had lost it before, the people would lose faith. Then Penny's family - the only ones to attend her funeral - wouldn't be safe anymore. The shelter was off-limits to the ELE only because it was _his_ territory. Anything outside of its walls...

Already his plans for dominating of the city were being stopped.

He shifted through the mail again, this time unfolding the newspaper to read the headline: _Johnny Snow Plans to Return the Homeless Shelter!_

"Idiot Snow. I'll have to find someone else to take it," the good doctor formulated in his mind.

"Yeah..." Moist mumbled in reply, vastly interested on the gloves that he had been wearing for weeks.

"Conflict Diamond won't do, Bait and Switch are too unreliable. No, it has to be someone without being notorious. Someone neutral, easily controlled. How's... Hammer?" Billy asked, his right eye twitching ever-so-slightly at the name.

"He's doing okay, down to only a few psycho sessions a week. No good for you though."

"Damn," the doctor grumbled and looked out the window. He blinked. He didn't remember having a window.

"...Hm'salsoourglss."

Billy's eyes snapped to him, tearing his thoughts away from the shelter, from Penny who lived on the streets. Penny never came to him in the apartment; no, she seemed to only ever meet him on the streets she had traveled often in life.

He had always thought that maybe if he could fix the shelter, give the homeless a place to stay, maybe she would stop walking the streets, homeless herself. Maybe she could move on, forgive him, maybe maybe maybe...

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head to clear out his mind and try to grasp sanity once again, "What did you say?"

Moist looked terribly uncomfortable now, still avoiding meeting his gaze, but this time, his words were more clearly enunciated, "There's also Hourglass."

The name took a moment to sink in.

Then he lost his fight against his infamous smirk. Yes, she would be perfect, he decided. The psychic woman was neutral, helping hero and villain alike, yet offering them no help at all. A woman who saw the future taking in a business—everyone would of course assume it would be a success. She was perfect, no one would touch her.

Except for himself.

While Billy was a soul fueled by his regrets about people, Dr. Horrible was an entity that held no regrets at all. Dr. Horrible would have no problem with using her.

And suddenly, Moist's nervous demeanor made perfect sense. He already knew that he was Billy's greatest asset in obtaining her.

Hourglass was, after all (and for reasons no one had yet to understand, and probably wouldn't until the future presented itself), smitten with Moist. She was neutral, holding the world's future in her palm, but sharing it with no one. A few words for a hero, a few hints for a villain, and overall she was useless only because she wanted to be.

And yet, to Moist, she told secrets the world has yet to hold, stories that had yet to be, leaders that had yet to rule. She held him at arms length while batting her lashes, saying only _Soon._

Dr. Horrible wanted to laugh.

Hourglass would agree to help if Moist was in the equation, and being such a gifted mathematician, it would be child's play to add in the new variable.

And Moist knew it.

The poor henchman was still avoiding eye contact, but he made no other signs of rejection.

"Thanks, evil moisture buddy," he smiled an almost-smile, the closest thing to happiness that he had felt in a long time. Not quite happiness and not close enough to tease, but in the end, Billy was okay with that. "Could you ask Hourglass for me?"

Moist finally looked up to him, sheepishness in his drooping eyes, "She kinda... already accepted."

Billy blinked.

Then he gave a short laugh.

The novelty of the sound perked the henchman out of his abashment, and he smiled at the small sign of his friend's kinda-not-really joy. Then Moist straightened up, a memory reasserting itself in his usually-relaxed posture.

"She also says that you should look into the orphanage."

Orphanage. Orphans, everyone, him, her, yes, why hadn't he taken care of that too?

"Did she say why?" he ventured, smile long gone at the image of his own memories. His own ghosts.

"She just said 'soon' again."

.

.

.

Yes, Billy mentally agreed as he threw the useless mail onto the barely-used kitchen counter and headed back to the lab.

Penny...

...Soon, he silently promised.

* * *

**TBC**


	8. Subtleties

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**AN:** Seems like these chapters are getting a bit longer. Hmm. And, I like Nathan Fillion, so I kinda have a forced affection for Caption Hammer, so yeah… Also, this chapter's not quite as groomed as I would like it to be, but meh, oh well. Might be edited later, might not.

* * *

**Subtleties **

Things were beginning to unwind.

Plans were set into motion, and soon – _soon_ – those plans would enter a perpetual force that would be self-sustaining. Plans that could move forward without the mad scientist in the mix who had been pushing it along.

But somehow those plans pushed him here. _Here_ of all places.

For a long moment, Billy simply leaned against the doorway, pushing up useless glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. And for an equally long moment, _he_ never even noticed him.

The once large frame that marked the build of a superhero, of the one and only Captain Hammer, didn't look so formidable now. He looked small, in fact, bent down and hunched over a single suitcase, bunching up sweater vests into it. Billy almost wanted to laugh, right then and there. This was the man who destroyed everything, took everything, and he didn't even know how to fold laundry, even after having Penny.

It seemed like a bad punch line to the universe's horrible joke.

"Going somewhere?" Billy's voice finally slicked out, like a snake slithering up to its prey, calm yet deadly. But also defensive and ready to strike.

The figure froze in front of him, suddenly shrinking further into the small apartment room.

Slowly, the man took in a shaky breath, as if he had to remind himself to do so, and stood up before turning to face him.

Billy already knew Hammer was leaving the city, tired perhaps of being martyred despite still breathing—which was exactly why he was here. But as Hammer turned to look at him, the hero's tired eyes sparked with something small, something lost, and Billy could see that he was stuck between the _remember when_'s and _if only_'s.

He knew exactly how it felt.

Now Hammer was going to leave the city, probably the state as well, but Billy couldn't figure out if the ex-superhero was being cowardly or brave, smart or foolish. It took him a moment (as it did for Hammer to gather himself and take a step forward) to remember that rights and wrongs didn't exist anymore. Things weren't black-and-white anymore, and heroes were just as gray and muddled up as he was.

Regardless, Billy remembered that his own departure was inevitable as well.

Hammer stood there, his eyes focusing and un-focusing as he obviously tried to remember to let go of his fear, to remember the words of his therapist and the harsh words of his by-gone fan club.

"What are you doing here?" the once-strong and commanding voice of his nemesis barked out. It was strange, Billy thought, how the sharp question didn't cut him like it once had.

And the villain couldn't help but smirk.

Even Hammer could see through his civilian disguise, looking every bit the doctor that he was but wasn't. Glasses, brushed back lengthening hair, a false name tag against his chest—it was amazing what ignorance taught society. Don't look, it won't happen to you; blend in, no one will notice you.

Apparently his silence concerned the hero, for he drew himself up to his full height defensively and curtly asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

The ELE villain detached himself from the door frame to step inside the opened door of the apartment, and smiled, for once loving the fact that Hammer was never subtle. But while the hero was straightforward in all ways, Billy was not. He dealt underhandedly, played victim and villain whenever it suited his needs, and he was a master of listening to unspoken words and fears. After all, that was all he had left, unspoken regrets and pleas that no one else could seem to hear as well as he could.

So Billy could easily hear Hammer's cries and pleas for him to do it, to make him the martyr everyone wanted him to be.

The villainous doctor was suddenly made more aware of the weight of the death ray, tucked away in the hem of his pants and underneath his shirt as it pressed against his back. The cold metal didn't warm up against his cold flesh, even as his thoughts grew darker, even as he bore witness to Captain Hammer's unspoken cries. The ex-hero wanted death, wanted the glory of dying by his hand, wanted everything just once more, wanted to be loved by the public once more, to even just be mentioned in the papers one more time.

But Billy knew more than anyone that "one more time" had a bitter sting. The sting of his own "one more time" was spreading throughout his veins, venom licking away the half-lived life within him—yes, Billy knew _one more time_ was a fate worse than death.

Finally, Billy took a step closer to his once-enemy, and answered, "No."

It was a simple response, but it killed the small spark in Hammer's eyes, and Billy knew that his mercy was so great, that it was perfect revenge.

The little spark, however, didn't die without a fight. Before Billy could even blink, his body slammed against the wall, crushed beneath the weight of Hammer pushing forward against him, enraged snarl in his now-eye-level face.

Billy's heart stopped, his breath was kicked out from under him, but in his mind, he was secretly impressed that Hammer understood enough to feel jaded. He was also disappointed that Hammer was still so dull as to not question why.

The ex-hero held up his body with one hand and readied his other fist, intent shimmering darkly in his expression, in his listless eyes, and Billy felt time repeating itself. Hammer in front of him, fist ready to add a red coat of paint to his wall; Hammer above him, death ray in hand, neither aware that it couldn't kill its maker.

"Are you going to kill me?" Horrible asked from beneath Billy, but he wasn't sure if it was whispered or not, screamed or not.

At that moment, Hammer blinked, his snarl only fractionally softening, as he caught onto Horrible's carefully laid out subtly. Hammer for once, could hear the doctor's unspoken wish, if only because it exactly mirrored his own.

_Do it._

Billy could see Hammer's thoughts as clear as an equation, tumbling against itself until it swallowed everything else whole and became an answer. He could also see the torture, the hatred, the regret, and Billy hated Hammer in this instant as much as he hated his own reflection.

They both lost what was most dear to them because of the other; he lost Penny, Hammer lost his invincibility and glory. They both lost what they had hoped would bring them love and were left hollow—Billy hated him because they were the same.

The hero's snarl returned, but his fist joined its brother around the collar of his shirt, and without any effort, slammed his body again onto the hard wall. Then again, and Billy could taste blood in his mouth.

"I hear Snow defeated you, _doctor_," Hammer sneered with anger-ridden words spitting on his face, joining a small trail of blood.

But he said nothing.

It earned him a punch in the gut.

"Defeated you, took your precious shelter." _See, later I'm going to take little Penny back to my place, show her the command center…_

Still, he said nothing.

And it was killing Hammer, "What are you planning?"

Billy finally met the hero's challenging gaze, facing his dare to deny that Snow wasn't on purpose. But the bags under his eyes, the absolute exhaustion also pleaded for him to say that it was part of a scheme, praying that no one had replaced him. He was hoping that even while the world forgot about him, that he at least still meant _something_ to the person he had robbed from—to the person who had robbed from him.

Dr. Horrible, however, was not a merciful villain. Or, perhaps it was his mercy that made him so villainous.

"I came to take care of what's mine," he said instead, both ignoring his questions, spoken and silent, and telling him _everything_.

Really, it was a shame that Captain Hammer wasn't adept at Billy's art, and to prove it, Hammer shoved him further up the wall, burning his back. Billy coughed and _really_ regretted having put the death ray in his pants—the skin, he knew, was broken were the gun was pressing into. He could feel the pain and blood trailing down his body.

"To tie up loose ends," Billy translated, voice squeaking through the hero's tight hold, but for a few reflexively frantic heartbeats, Hammer didn't move.

Neither moved nor breathed.

Then, at last, Hammer let go of his grip, not caring as Billy plummeted to the ground. But it was enough. The villain steadily got up onto his feet, brushing blood from his lips, and hated Hammer for his mercy as well.

They both hated each other enough to let the other live, and Dr. Horrible stirred within him, wishing to laugh a laugh that no one else was worthy of. The laugh that had always been meant for his ears alone.

"Loose ends, huh?" the hero mumbled loudly, including him on his inner musings, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yes… But I won't kill you," he responded. Even Hammer noticed that the tone of his words whispered that killing him had been his original intent—to kill his worst enemy.

The both of them were different now though, shaped by their experiences. There was no urge now to dish out an evil monologue like he once loved to do (and would once stay up all night until he was sure he would get it right). Hammer didn't pose, didn't offer any so-called "banter", and instead was hunched over by the invisible weight of worthlessness.

The only difference between them now was desire. While Hammer wished to leave to start over, try again, Billy just wanted to disappear.

The ex-Captain nodded to no one, possibly answering a thought in his head, before turning away from Billy and back to his single suitcase.

In a way, Billy admired him.

After all, there was something to be said about simplicity. Hammer was a simple man, made complicated now only because of his presence. And Billy was brought to his door by a simple plan. Give Penny her peace, whether that meant reviving the homeless shelter, protecting an orphanage, or tying up all said ends, he didn't care. Hourglass had already confronted Snow, charming him with her talk of bravery and grandeur in the "future", and soon, she'll charm him into signing the building over to her.

Soon, Dr. Horrible would have his victory. Soon Penny wouldn't be the only one at peace.

The bulky figure paused as he shoved the last of his stack of clothes into the case and whispered without looking at him, "I want you to know… If I knew what would happen, I'd have let them put you away behind cold bars." A second passed, "The 'cold bars' is jail."

Regrets, loose ends, shared misery. Whoever said that sharing a burden made it lighter had obviously never had a burden in their life.

"No," Hammer shook his head, correcting himself again, "I'd have beat you until you stopped _breathing._"

At this, Billy smiled, a small jaded thing, as he remembered fists that once beat him into a bloody, non-resisting pulp. Those same fists had also waved the police away, once claiming that the small-time villain wasn't worth the paperwork of jail time.

But Billy was a master of the unspoken and knew even then that Hammer had loved his fearless and stubborn spirit, had loved trying to beat it out of him; after all, Hammer would hold back _just enough_ for Dr. Horrible to recover quickly and come back to play.

The ex-Captain Hammer closed the case, not yet locking it, and turned around, hope still sparking in his eyes.

_I would have killed you_, he told him, and he meant it. But he also was hoping that it was stepping on his toes, that he'll change his mind and strike him like the poised snake he was.

Blue eyes slid closed as Billy dipped his head before turning to leave.

Hammer was no longer his to take care of now, so he walked as straight as he could, with injuries he was used to bearing, back to the still-opened doorway.

But before he disappeared down the hallway, Billy hesitated.

His arch-nemesis… Softly, he brought a hand against the doorframe to better support his wounded weight, as his mind halted at a revelation that he had always known. Captain Hammer was no longer his worst enemy, and while Hammer was far from forgiven, the only other person Billy planned to kill was reserved for the new owner of that title, for the one who had let everything fall apart.

_I would have killed you._

"I would have let you."

And Billy disappeared from his doorstep.

* * *

**TBC**

This was fun to write, I just hope it was okay to read… And MAN, I was writing this, and I thought that I was burying the two in UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension) =P ...No? Just me? Oh well, maybe one day I'll take this chapter and make it a slash-fic, haha. …Just kidding, by the way.

...I think.


	9. Chances

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**AN:** College… is kicking my ass. Hard. But I'm too lazy to move from its foot, so I don't really foresee an end to this whole butt-kicking problem. The point is that updates have and probably will continue to suffer, sorry 'bout that guys. Moral of the story? Go to school and _do_ the work XD

* * *

**Chances**

"Walk with me, Moist," he pleaded with an even and toneless voice.

The henchman and best friend just looked at him. Moist knew why now. He knew everything, since finally this night, Billy spilt his guts out after Moist caught him staring at a test tube of acid with a strange sort of intent in his eyes.

Billy had cut open his chest and thrown the lingering shards of his heart at the man, waiting, hoping, wishing…

But they both knew Moist could offer none of the help Billy so desired. Only soft words of comfort – _we'll get through this_ and _we'll get another doctor to look after you, it'll be okay_ – and meanings that meant nothing.

"Come with me," Billy repeated, goggles against his forehead, waiting, hoping, wishing.

But Moist just shook his head.

What good would it be even if by following the man, he saw the child-ghost too? Nothing would change. Billy had already told him that a member of the ELE might have seen her, and still—nothing had changed. If Moist saw her or not, Billy would still fade away.

At least this way, Billy could be the romantic tragic hero that he always envisioned himself as. At least this way, Billy could still pretend that there _was_ a chance.

So Moist lowered his gaze, hoping and wishing that he had more to give than his words as empty as them both.

"And go where, doc?"

The man paused then nodded sadly before stepping away from his best and only friend, saying only, "I… don't know anymore."

Moist watched him go, watched him leave the apartment that Billy barely lived in now, and despaired that he could not follow such aimlessness.

.

.

.

He never left the lab without his coat anymore.

Billy was curling up inside of him, dying with every flash of red hair – red as blood, red as guilt – but under Dr. Horrible's name, he still thrived. Strange how his guilt just gave the reason for his guilt more power.

In an ironic sort of reversal, Billy had become the alter-ego.

On this night, he didn't know where he was headed or where he was going, but Dr. Horrible was on his way with his head held high. The ELE shining star walked his streets, the alleyways that echoed with _his_ ominous whistling. No thug or petty villain dared to touch him.

No, only Penny was brave enough to face the super-villian that had the whole state cowering in fear.

He knew she would come to him, somehow finding him in the labyrinth of backstreets and alleyways. After all, Penny knew where to go with life more than he ever had, and Penny knew these streets better than anyone, since she was the one who walked them everyday on one crusade or another: feed the starving children, help the homeless, reprimand the evil.

Dr. Horrible waited, Billy was dying inside of him, and Penny was the only solution.

There was a chance, he wished, he hoped, and he waited for the pitter-patter of her feet to find him. She was the only one to care, and right now, Billy-buddy was breaking. This game needed to end, he thought.

He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

**TBC**

Thanks for your support guys, nothing makes one's day more than finding a review in your email :D It also helps remind me that this story even exists, haha! Next chapter/drabble should be posted in a day or two.


	10. Endings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

* * *

**Endings**

Her small footsteps were echoing in his head, slamming from one temple to the other, caged and damning. His teeth gnashed together as he tried to fight against the sound, hating the self-loathing that she always revived, hating the way she looked at him, hating that he couldn't make her _stop. _

But most of all, he hated that he wasn't sure if he wanted her _to_ stop.

"Penny," his voice cracked out as he turned to face her childish face, "Please…"

He was begging, but for what, he wasn't even sure anymore. His black-gloved hand reached out to her, afraid that she might reach back, afraid that she wouldn't.

He was going mad, he knew, had always known, and his thoughts were circling in and again around the guilt of killing her—this orphan girl who grew up to be so strong and with soft understanding. Until, at last, his thoughts ended the circle.

He took care of what was his, and in the instant that his gun imploded and impaled her, her life had been in and on his hands. Her life had been his in that moment of death, and now the only logical conclusion was that she had come back to claim his.

Billy found himself more than willing as he reached out for her.

"Penny," he cried as his hand was once again suspended in the space between worlds, between that gap he had always craved to bridge, between life and death. Once in the graveyard, now in the urban underworld.

But she took a step back—a long, fearful step away from him.

She was shaking her head, and his hand dropped to his side, feeling cheated by destiny, by death, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. To have never been born, let alone to be making his way to ruling the world.

Long-denied tears began to build as he fell to his knees, defeated by the one he loved and obsessed over. The dark alleyway's concrete was harsh against his knees, but there was no danger for him in a world that both feared and revered him.

And apparently no danger from this ghost. But everything—her, him, this—_everything _made absolutely no sense.

"Wh-why?" his voice strangled out, letting all his emotion, the ever-present guilt and this newfound betrayal, surface.

The girl still just shook her head mutely, taking another uncertain step back.

Then the haunting girl finally spoke, finally finally finally…

And her petite words unraveled his twisted mind and undid him until he could only stare as she turned tail and ran, leaving him alone.

Alone, like he had always been.

Alone with her simple words—

"My name's not Penny…"

* * *

**TBC**

Big thanks to my lovely reviewers! ...And heck, thanks to the lazy bums who read and leave. You know who you are ;P **  
**


	11. Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**AN:** I have this story listed as "Hurt/Comfort." We've seen the Hurt, now it's almost time for some Comfort :D Also, sorry if this chapter (can I call it that, they're so short) is a bit choppy, I was more excited about posting it than proofreading/revising/proofreading/rinse-lather-repeat.

* * *

**Beginnings**

Billy couldn't sleep.

Ever since the homeless shelter incident, sleep had come far more easily than he knew to be healthy, as if his body was eager for the darkness and hoped to never wake again.

But for the first time in a long time, Billy couldn't sleep.

It had been only hours since the girl fled from him in the alleyway. The ghost who had tortured him until his breakdown now suddenly claimed ignorance—and Billy was damned if he didn't feel betrayed.

Penny was supposed to take him by the hand and take him to his death, and by killing each other, he had hoped to have felt forgiven. But now, Penny apparently didn't find this solution to be equal to her own demise.

His eyes grew troubled at this thought.

The Penny he knew – the Penny he had done laundry with and spied through the homeless shelter windows – had never been this cruel. Would never be this cruel, ever,not even after he unintentionally murdered her.

Perhaps, he thought, perhaps this_ really_ wasn't Penny.

Penny was his friend and had wanted nothing more than world peace and happy endings—the image of this girl unraveling him until he was days away from pulling the death ray's trigger on himself was so…_ not _Penny.

But why would the girl be following him then? What did she see in him? And yet, the instant he asked himself, Billy realized that he already knew.

A villain, he answered himself, suddenly remembering that she ever only followed him while he was dressed in red.

Except for the first time, at the cemetery.

"Damn," he thought, "This doesn't make any sense."

He sighed and flipped over on his bed as he came to terms with the fact that he would not sleep this night. Or the next night and many nights after that if he didn't do something to figure all this out. And there was only one logical way that he could formulate in which to reach the desired result of revelation.

Dr. Horrible was going to have to stalk a little orphan girl.

* * *

**TBC**


	12. Shadows

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew. Details of Moist's life go to "Moist: Humidity Rising", a comic done by one of the Whedon brothers. Can't remember which one at the moment.

**Author's Note:** Wow, I'm back! Sorry for the haitus guys, and sorry also if I repeat things. Just yell at me if something gets redundant/I forgot I talked about this or that already. Also, maybe not my best work, so I apologize if you don't like it. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

**Shadows**

Billy had told him that the ghost wasn't Penny.

It was strange, Moist had to admit, to see what looked like disappointment in the doctor. As if he _wanted_ to be haunted by the ghost of the woman he loved. Wanted her to seek vengeance on him.

But after Billy left – a big heist with Tie Die to get some sort of codes for Bad Horse – Moist began to think that he was wrong. It wasn't so strange after all. His best friend had always been the romantic sort, and what was more sublime than a death like that?

Moist smiled bitterly and fell into his own memories.

He too knew the desire for death. Knew it more intimately than a lover—knew it like his own shadow.

But that was a closed chapter in his life. A space in time erased by Billy's words, during one of the scientist's many encounters with Captain Hammer.

Moist still remembered that day, when he almost broke and put an end to his own purposeless existence. Or so he had thought it at the time.

His love life had sucked. Majorly.

His job had been dull and insensible. But then again, so had been the rest of his life.

One day, the tears just came and he had ended up calling a phone-sex line just to have someone to talk to. Pathetic, he knew it even then.

But then on an aimless walk, he had found Dr. Horrible, bright as always, being beaten up by none other than "the Corporate Tool". Beaten but unyielding, Moist couldn't help but lend Billy a hand, and though he barely remembered the awe-inspiring words Billy had said to him, Moist had known that he wanted to know this man. This hapless man who, unlike himself, fought again and again the same battle, never letting broken bones or bruises deter him.

Moist had wanted to be like him, to be so full of purpose that the spirit became indomitable. He suspected that that was why Captain Hammer kept Billy around for so long too-envy.

That very day, Moist had contacted the Henchman's Guild with a request to serve the one in the lab coat and heart on his sleeve.

Dr. Horrible accepted the instant he heard of Moist's power, useless as it was, but it wasn't the power, it was that Billy remembered him from the park that day. The day they were formally introduced, Billy had smiled at him, cheering that now _they_ would be unstoppable. Not _'I_ will be', but '_We_ will be.'

And Moist never looked back.

First a henchman, then a friend, then a _best_ friend.

Now, his love life didn't suck. Or at least, wouldn't for long, according to Hourglass's less-than-subtle flirting.

His job was made interesting with every plot and heist.

And his life felt like it had a purpose.

Billy had been at the heart of his change, yet now, Moist was powerless to help the man who changed his life. It killed him to watch Billy fall apart.

But he hoped… Well, he wasn't exactly sure what he hoped for, whether he wanted the ghost to be real or not, a child or phantom, but he hoped anyway, just wanting his best friend to come back in one piece. To be the indomitable Billy again.

Moist sat up from the couch to lock up the apartment, and wished Billy luck on his heist.

Then he prayed to anyone listening for his best friend to find his purpose again.


	13. Choices

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog (or Firefly, points if you catch the small reference) or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**BETA: ** Say "hello" and "thank you" to the very lovely Dragondancer123! Another round of applause to Dragondancer123 for putting up with my procrastination and uber long waits! :D

**Author's Note:** I ferociously apologize for the long wait, guys. I don't really have a valid excuse for the wait either, despite the finals and computer issues. Why? Because I've had this chapter written, editted, and beta-ed since... oh god, October. That's just... sad. I'm a terrible person... horrible... Anyway, I have outlined quite a bit of this story now, and yes, we will be meeting each ELE villain and yes, we will see Captain Hammer again. Enjoy, and I'll avoid unnecessary waits like this from now on!

* * *

"There are two great tragedies in life.  
One is to never get your heart's desires; the other is to get it."

- Oscar Wilde

**Choices**

"Really, it is your precious _corporations_ that have been robbing you, for years. But you poor sheep don't see that, do you?" Dr. Horrible pointed his ray gun at the closest bystander for emphasis and repeated, "Do you?" The man, on his knees with hands on his head like all the rest, shook his head furiously, too scared to think of objecting.

All eyes stared at the gun in his black-gloved hands, a gun Billy was actually proud of. It was complete with a switch to toggle between the Stun Ray chemicals as well as the Death Ray's. But no one knew but Billy current non-lethal setting.

Still, Dr. Horrible smirked and continued on with his monologue, "I didn't think so. Too busy worshipping the golden calf to realize your own oppression. But still you call us the villains, when really, the tru—"

He paused, the words out of his mouth tumbling to a stop, as static sounded in his left ear. He took a brief moment to mourn the interruption of his monologue. Such a shame too, he had worked on it all night.

He lifted a gloved hand to his ear and pressed the device further in order to hear the villain on the other end better.

"What?" he snapped nervously.

"I'm having difficulties with this safe. It would seem you were correct."

He grumbled under his breath and then aimed his Death-but-actually-Stun Ray on the nearest moving figure in the bank. The huddled hostage quit fidgeting.

"I would appreciate it if all of you would stare very intently at your own bellybuttons," he ordered, even though his polite tone was edged with something darker that allowed for no disobedience.

"I will need the passcode to your device."

For a moment, he thought maybe he should have been the one to sneak into the back while someone else created the distraction, and it should have been him to crack open the codes and earn the esteem of Bad Horse.

But this was Tie Die, different than any other member of the ELE.

Tie Die.

The two of them had gotten along well, and aside from Bad Horse, she was the only one to have taken a liking to Dr. Horrible-unlike Billy's relationship with anyone else on the League. Yet, the only thing he knew about Tie Die was her accident. She had been a chemist who mixed patchouli and ylang-ylang oils together and the explosion resulted in her powers. But that meant little. What mattered was that she knew how to hate, just like the rest of them.

Tie Die hated happiness and everyone who had a piece of it. For all her colors and peace-signs, Tie Die was ready to slay anyone who so much as smiled. But killing wasn't her way. She inherited more than just rainbows from the hippie explosion; she also acquired the hippie way of peaceful-protest that made her mostly passive. She had been the brains behind many of the ELE exploits before Dr. Horrible's arrival. It was only natural that Bad Horse set them up on a heist together.

"So Jefferson's hacking system is a bit outdated, is it?" Dr. Horrible smiled and whispered into the microphone, "Really, his technology is—"

"Your password to the device, Dr. Horrible."

"Oh, right." He paused. "Right. Password."

He resisted the urge to sink into a puddle. He knew he should have changed it. He just knew it.

"Ah, it's…" he looked around to the hostages before whispering below their hearing.

He was answered with silence. _Oh yeah_, he thought, _once they were finished with this heist, I'll never hear the end of it. _ He turned around with a flourish of his lab coat to cover his embarrassment with a healthy dose of fear and terror.

* * *

Tie Die's phone rang with a small recording of Bad Horse's anthem. Flipping the cell open and closed, she turned to Billy, fingers fidgeting as always with the peace sign around her neck.

"He's received the codes."

He made an impressed, "Huh." That was fast, 'They-were-still-making-their-getaway,' fast.

He paused for Tie Die to take the lead to the car hidden somewhere behind the bank, and asked, "All of it?"

"Yes," she snipped back, still fiddling, still stoic.

"Huh."

His dark boots trailed behind her glittering heels. Somewhere in his mind, he didn't feel like he was wasting his time anymore. This heist had actually been promising. No money, no bonds, but codes.

One day soon, the ELE just might succeed in ruling the state instead of just playing "sheep-dog", as he had taken to calling it. A bark to frighten, a nip of fangs to show dominance, but the League had yet to actually seize control. But with armory, police, and even the Hero's Guild codes (courtesy of hacking and some deposit box theft) they could actually take over.

The female-scientist paused by the nondescript Ford to withdraw her keys, and Billy paused to question the wisdom of their actions. But the slight press of morality came and went. After all, this was a step closer to gaining more power—power he could use to secure his territory and expand.

Tie Die's eyes snapped to him, as if sensing his not-entirely-corrupt intentions. The intensity of her stare warranted a bracing breath before his own ice-blue eyes rose to meet her hazel set.

He gazed back with indifference, not wishing to appear weak to even the only ELE member who didn't want him gone, Bad Horse excluded. She only seemed to grow more confused by whatever she found in him—if she could see anything past his goggles.

He raised a curious brow, despite the fact she would not be able to see it. She shook her head, saying, "Later." She gestured to the passenger door. "For now, I must insist on celebratory dining."

He shook his head no, "Thanks, but I've got something else to take care of."

He needed to track down Penny-who-was-not-Penny, which so far was a task that yielded poor fruit. Until now, he only saw brief glimpses of her if he was Billy. However, if dressed as Horrible, then she would follow him, though from a much farther distance now than before, ever since he called her by a dead woman's name. But still she watched him.

It was unusual to say the least.

Behind her silver and blue beaded mask, Tie Die narrowed her eyes. She tossed a brief glance to her car in irritation before settling on the idea that he was not coming with her.

Then she turned back, her expression far from aggravated, and said, "You look happier."

Was he happy, to a degree? Was he that relieved about not-Penny?

Another train of thought crashed into his mind, derailing his self-search, as he remembered who he was talking to.

Tie Die. Tie 'I'll-kill-anyone-who-smiles' Die.

He had been so miserable when he had initially joined the ELE that, really, it wasn't surprising she had liked—well, tolerated him. But now, to have her tell him that he looked happier was almost a death sentence.

"What makes you say that?" was all he could think to say.

Her lips, usually set to a pout, tightened into a grimace, which was impressive to watch as she spoke, "I can tell. What has happened to you?"

Dr. Horrible didn't know how to answer her. For one, he still wasn't sure what was happening, and for the other… Tie Die practically just asked him what was wrong. A woman who fed off of misery asked if he was okay, almost as if she cared.

Did she?

Billy shifted uncomfortably in his red coat, but Dr. Horrible reared up and locked Billy inside, protecting the Achilles' heel; and he retorted back, "What's it matter to you?"

She sneered at him, but her look of anger contradicted her silent words, "You're the only one among us who's never happy."

He raised a doubting brow at that—not that she would be able to tell— and she stared at him, waiting. It took him a few seconds to realize she was right.

All the other villains knew the satisfaction of a job well done, and delighted by the havoc they wrought. Dead Bowie was almost giddy every time he enslaved someone to do his will by his mysterious 'power of voodoo.' Snake Bite, though she rarely spoke, smiled like a madwoman anytime she used her poisons, Fury every time she struck down a man, and Fake Tomas Jefferson and Professor Normal as well. Even Bad Horse loved a good heist or murder every now and again.

But Dr. Horrible had always been miserable, ever since Penny, ghost or otherwise.

…_Am I glad?_

"What's giving you hope, Horrible?"

Billy lifted his head, feeling exposed and vulnerable as if the goggles on his face weren't there or the uniform he wore became bleached white.

"Happiness will only fail you," Tie Die whispered like a warning as she stepped closer to him, her words just breath against his lips. Her eyes ensnared his, and her mouth ghosted over his skin, "Kiss me, Dr. Horrible, and I will destroy your hope before it kills you.

"It has hurt you before," she finished with a stare of hazel eyes behind her sequined mask, "You may not survive a second sting."

Billy shivered, from fear – yet partially from temptation.

"Tie Die…" Billy breathed, unsure, afraid, and lost.

"Kiss me, and I'll give you back your apathy."

Despite himself, Billy's eyes slid closed, and he tipped forward several degrees closer.

"What happened to your hope?" he asked, or hoped he did, since it sounded more like a sigh.

She was touching his face and answered, "Dead."

And as she leaned in to close the distance, he thought of another woman, red hair and red blood in his arms – dying – and then of a little girl, scarlet-haired as well but with blood yet to be spilt.

"All hope is dead."


	14. Decisions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note: **Beta'd by Dragondancer123! A big thank you and much love to my reviewers; I'm honored :D

* * *

**Decisions**

_Keep your head up, Billy buddy._

He blinked. Even through darkened goggles, he felt the world was suddenly just a bit lighter.

_Even in the darkness, every color can be found._

Instead of seeing Tie Die in front of him, a breath away from a kiss and a choice, Billy remembered the sun shining through the window of a laundry mat. He remembered Penny leaning close to him like this, as if thinking, _"What if he and I…?"_

Billy drew back, a miniscule movement that spoke volumes, and took Tie Die's hand from his face into his gloved one. "I'm sorry," he croaked out to Tie Die from a constricted throat, worlds away in a time long past.

There was stillness between them.

"Really sorry," he repeated, but he couldn't see the villainess anymore. He saw Penny pulling away, answering _"What if"_s with _"But it isn't_."

Tie Die stood silent in front of him. Predatorily silent.

Billy was beginning to doubt the wisdom of rejecting the brains of the ELE.

He waited for a long minute, flashes of rage and death flying across his mind. After many heartbeats passed, Tie Die took in a breath.

"I am too late."

He blinked like he used to, half a blink, half a squint, though he didn't notice it himself.

"What?"

Tie Die took another step back, her head held high and her eyes searching the skies as if there was more at stake. But she offered no elaboration and shook her head after the cloudless day offered her no miracle.

"Do not break, Dr. Horrible," she offered him offhandedly after turning around and opened the driver door. "When you get everything you ever wanted again, do not break."

He watched as the villainess started the car and left his sight on the bustling street, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

It took him a moment more to compose himself and to walk out onto the sidewalk, moving through the groups of people like a parting sea. All around were crowded faces that looked a lot like missed opportunities, but Billy remembered the one chance that ended in blood. Blood that paid the price of his dreams.

And thus ended the story of a girl.

But he had felt as if he died as well that night, and ever since then, he had been wishing she had come back to finish the job. And that was what he had wanted, at the time.

But now…

_Here's a story of a girl__  
__who grew up lost and lonely_

Billy may not have known what he wanted, but what he did know was that he needed to find the girl on the streets. A girl who, ironically enough, both made him wish for death and, in the face of Tie Die's temptation, gave him a reason to fight.


	15. Habits

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note: **Beta'd by the ever-lovely Dragondancer123.

* * *

**Habits**

He considered himself excellent at finding what he needed. Some called it stalking, but he preferred to think of it more as simply a-way-to-check-on-someone-without-them-knowing. More words yes, but without the negative connotation.

It had been a simple plan.

For some reason, not-Penny was drawn to him, a stalker stalking the stalker. And that served as an easy way to find her—by having her find him first.

After the heist, Dr. Horrible roamed and circled around the block, waiting for the not-Penny. No one questioned, civilian and police alike, or rather nothing that couldn't be handled with a flash of his "death" ray. Everyone scuttled out of his way like crabs from the incoming tide.

Two and a half laps later, he noticed her small figure in the reflection of a restaurant window, though he pretended not to notice. He locked his smirk inside and took to fleeing into the nearest alleyway and ducked behind the restaurant's dumpster, easily ignoring the stench of mixed and wasted food.

By the time she rounded the corner_, Billy_ bumped into her with a muffled, "Sorry, kid," and feinted walking in the opposite direction. She didn't spare him a glance in her search for Dr. Horrible, as if he were made invisible by his gray hoodie.

"_Perfect,"_ he thought and celebrated stage one of Operation I'm-Going-To-Hell(-For-Being-A-Creeper.) Next step, follow the girl home.

Billy almost felt like smiling.


	16. Epiphanies

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note: **Beta'd by Dragondancer123, who deserves lots of thanks. And another big thanks to my reviewers; I love you all! Your reviews inspire me and make me want to post the next chapter at that very moment! Except that, well, I still have to write them, then proofread, then edit, then beta, but the point is- - inspired! Love you guys!

...Also, when you review, do you typically expect a reply back? I'm not sure what the proper procedure to this is.

**Epiphanies**

Like every other day since Moist had moved in with his troubled friend for emotional support, he walked over to the living room couch and gently placed a towel down on his customary spot. While Dr. Horrible was out terrorizing the state with diabolical (and not-so diabolical) plans, Moist stayed inside, enjoying a marathon of bad sci-fi movies and Chinese food.

By the end of the first movie, he had to switch towels, careful not to ruin the furniture with his less than badass power.

Whatever he had been expecting to happen during his normal routine, it hadn't been Dr. Horrible bursting in through their apartment door screaming: "I can't have a kid, Moist, I just can't!"

Chopsticks fell as fast as his jaw. "Whoa, Doc! Who said anything about having kids?"

"I just… I mean, what kind of parent would I be?"

"'_What kind of'_—Doc. Tell me you didn't knock someone up."

But Billy wasn't even listening to him. "What would I even _do_ with a kid?"

"You did, didn't you? Oh, this is bad, Billy, this is bad." Moist leaned back on the couch, not caring anymore about the condition of furniture. He paused as a thought slapped him in the face, "Wait, you got that far with a girl?"

"I can't even think straight…"

'_Neither can I,' _Moist thought, or would have thought had he the time to slow the adrenaline in his system (and brain) enough to even try thinking. Apparently rationality became a trifle more difficult with a panicking best friend pacing the small living room floor.

"Billy, who's the mother?"

"I can't just go around adopting kids. I'm a villain! Evil League of Evil material!"

"Adopting? Wait, why are you adopting?" Moist asked, but Billy was still pacing the floor, eyes unfocused and worlds away. Moist was relatively sure at this point that Billy didn't even realize that he was there, even as Billy spoke to him.

Moist stared with his mouth agape at his dear friend, barely able to think, _'This is just too bizarre.'_

Just this morning Billy had poured his heart out about ghost-Penny and just this morning, Moist had prayed to anyone and anything that his best friend would find purpose again. Just this morning, Billy had been lost in feelings of self-loathing and disappointment. But where was that guilt now?

"I mean, I always _called_ her an orphan all the time, but I never really _thought_ that she was _really _an—"

"Hang on, slow down, what's with this adopting thing?"

"Orphaned by society kind of deal, you know? But she's actually—"

"Billy, c'mon, answer me! Why are you adopting!" Then a flint of irrational notions, "Oh god, you're not in love with me, are you?"

There was a brief, sobered silence.

Billy turned around to face him, "…_What_?"

"Sorry. Just, uh," Moist shifted uncomfortably. "Just got ahead of myself is all…"


	17. Victims

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note: **Early update for you guys, because I don't show you all enough love! A shout of thanks again to Dragondancer123. As for the title, aren't we all?

* * *

**Victims**

Moist coughed nervously before steering the conversation back on course with a sheepish, "So, uh, what's all this about adopting?"

"Right!" Billy lifted his hand in a vague gesture of recollection, "I followed her—"

"Tie Die?"

"What? Oh, no," Billy began to pace again, "Penny. Well, not Penny-Penny, but the ghost-that-was-Penny-but-isn't-anymore Penny."

Moist helped himself to the sofa of their joint living room and asked, "And, lemme guess, she's an orphan."

Billy shot him a Ha-ha-real-funny glare and pouted, "Yeah, she is. Led me straight to the orphanage."

Moist laid back, pushing aside wayward thoughts of damp couches, and sighed, "Hourglass's orphanage, wasn't it?"

"Yes!" the villain all but screeched, blue eyes sparkling in pure panic, "Yes, Hourglass! She wanted me to get the deed to the orphanage—Moist, she wants me to adopt this kid!"

Henchman and on-again-off-again boyfriend to the ever-mysterious Hourglass, he in no way doubted the assumption. It was a good assumption too, full of don't-you-feel-stupid-now facts and how-could-you-both-not-have-seen-this-coming details.

With a nervous lick of his lips, he just looked up to the distressed doctor with an expression that bordered between pity and a strange sort of guilt, "Damn, Doc. Just… Damn."

Nothing more _could_ be said, Moist thought with dismay. If Hourglass predicted it, then, well, it was just too damn inevitable. Her predictions, rare and few between, were never wrong. They weren't the kind one saw in movies where the heroes had a chance to change fate. No, she was a modern-day oracle and it looked like Billy was stuck in a Greek tragedy.

Moist chuckled lamely and tried to lighten the dark countenance of his pacing roommate, "At least you didn't have much of a bachelor life, right?"

With those words weighing their implications in the air, Billy didn't smile but rather collapsed where he stood on the ground. Moist said nothing, too torn between his thoughts of _"poor guy"_ and _"drama queen."_

Until the hunched figure spoke.

"I can't adopt a little kid, Moist. I can't."

There wasn't a trace of selfishness in those words, and the henchman found the meanings bitter on his tongue and hard to digest.

Because Billy was right. He couldn't adopt a child, not the way he was.

"I'm a murderer, Moist. I don't have the right."

"You're not a murderer, Billy," he tried to say, but Billy just shook his head and stared at the hands in his lap. It wasn't hard to understand that Billy saw blood there.

"A villain. A thief. I'm the bad guy that kids are supposed to stay away from."

"But Hourglass wouldn't—"

The blonde's voice lowered into a whisper, more like a sigh, and yet somehow his words were so much louder than Moist's, "I used to want to change the world. Do you remember that? Sometimes I don't. But now... Now I can't even help myself."

Idle fingertips played with the gloves that he constantly wore, and Moist tried again to comfort his best friend. "Well, maybe this is your chance, you know? Maybe this is how you're supposed to help—"

Then Billy lifted his head and Moist's uncertain gestures to unburden the broken man were trapped beneath the splintering ice of his eyes.

"I'd ruin her life."

There were no more words.

They sat in silence until much later when Billy locked himself away in his lab (no doubt hoping to never leave it again) and Moist to anywhere that wasn't _here._ Because in the face of that blunt and terrifying truth, Moist couldn't help but think that maybe not all of Hourglass's predictions ended with "and they lived happily ever after."

A real Greek tragedy indeed.


	18. Doubts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog or any of its characters. All rights go to Joss Whedon and his gifted cast and crew.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait. But on a personal note, I graduated college. It's still weirding me out.

* * *

**Doubts  
**

It was true. He'd ruin the child.

There were too many tragic ways her life would fall apart that it literally exhausted Billy to try and think of them all. So he didn't even bother. Instead, he hung onto the small hope that maybe adopting the girl who drove him to the edge of his sanity was actually _not_ what Hourglass had intended at all.

It was a miniscule hope, but to Billy, it was enough.

One time of destroying someone's life had been enough.

"Can I help you, sir?" a polite voice echoed from outside of his thoughts. Billy barely took notice as he looked around in the world he had nearly forgotten. The small lobby of the orphanage was cleaner and more decorated than he remembered it being before he stole the deed.

"I would like to speak to the manager," he said.

Ignoring his nervous blink, the receptionist asked with a small smile of surprise, "Oh. I'm afraid Mr. Snow is out at the moment—"

Billy shook his head, "No, not him."

The woman flicked her hair and continued as if he hadn't said a word, "But our supervisor is in, if you would like to see her instead."

"Is she available right now?" he asked, despite the fact that he had every intention of just walking right into Hourglass's office even if she was busy. Luckily the young woman impassively pointed to a set of doors down the short hallway behind her, and Billy wouldn't have to make a scene.

"Yeah, she is. Just go through those doors. Her office is the first one on the left."

With an "Okay, thanks," he followed the directions down the straightforward hall of the orphanage. He fiddled with the miniaturized ray gun in his front hoodie pocket. He had no hope or desire of ever using it on Hourglass, but he had grown used to carrying it around ever since his encounter with Hammer—it calmed him, made him feel secure. At the worse of times, it made him feel guilty as well.

He tried to distract himself from uncomfortable thoughts.

Maybe, he thought, he should think about renovating the place, make it bigger. Everyone liked more room. Did the occupants have their own rooms, anyway? Should they or would it be better if they bunked together? Would they feel alone in their own rooms? What did he know of the welfare of children? How was he supposed to take care of one?

He wanted nothing more than to bash his head against the door he reached. It always came back to _her._ The desire to pound his head until he bleed was overwhelming, the concussion sounded welcome, and for a brief moment of madness, Billy was surprised that it wasn't yet a psychological treatment.

The door opened before he could inflict any head trauma.

"Dr. Horrible," a strong yet rather sensual voice ricocheted from a growing smirk, "What a surprise."

Billy frowned up at the woman who towered over him. The knowing shimmer in her nearly-black eyes left little doubt that she knew he would come.

He took a moment, blinked, and shuffled his feet as he worked words in his mouth. "Um, Billy," he corrected her since he wasn't sure what else to say. He looked at the Amazon with dark skin and even darker long hair, and remembered who she was, even if she tried to hide her power with jeans and an oversized t-shirt. One couldn't simply clothe a tiger and expect it to behave.

So he knew that even if now Hourglass was compliant, he shouldn't expect her to behave always.

"Alright then, Billy," she said, her smile still on her lips, "Walk with me?"

"That depends," he replied, distrust in the taut lines of his body, sinking down into his bones. "Is she here?"

Hourglass's smile didn't falter, but rather it grew. "Yes."

His distrust vanished and all the justified strength that his distrust gave him melted away, leaving him with bones barely able to hold him up. Hourglass didn't play in subtleties as he did, nor did she play with blunt and stupid honesty as Captain Hammer had. Hourglass played in paradoxes of choices and fate. She didn't need to lie or cheat or deal in the underhand; all her words, honest but labyrinthine, were games beyond men.

And Billy was caught. His orphan was here, and if he followed Hourglass, would she take him to her? Did it matter? Was his resolution so firm that his decision to fight Hourglass and the adoption would last even if he saw the girl? Was this a test?

Was this where his choice began? Or was there a choice at all?

"Hourglass, I—" he began weakly, feeling lost and uncertain.

"Cassandra," she corrected, eyes shining with the reflection of the florescent light of the hallway.

He closed his eyes and nodded, echoing her name. He heard her step out and close the door behind her, but when he heard her light laughter as she started walking down the hallway, Billy wondered if he made a mistake in coming.

He hesitated but only briefly.

Billy turned and followed behind her.


End file.
